Reflections Moral and Political on Great Britain and Her Colonies

It is probably because of the ringing slogan of the French Revolution that most of us somewhat unthinkingly take liberty and equality as an obvious and uncomplicated duo. But for the American founders and the authors of the pamphlets Jack Greene has collected for Liberty Fund, the pairing of liberty and equality was both daring and dauntingly complex. As the author of Reflections Moral and Political on Great Britain and Her Colonies (anonymous, but attributed to Capt. Matthew Wheelock) discovers, balancing these values is harder than snappy slogans make it sound.

From the beginning it is clear that Reflections Moral and Political is not all that certain that liberty is an entirely safe or sensible standard to bear. The opening sentence reads:

Among all the errors to which mankind is subject none are more dangerous than those which arise from excellencies or virtues misunderstood. As surely as an excessive generality will destroy a great fortune, or an extreme frugality will annihilate the enjoyment of riches, so surely will an unlimited exercise of liberty destroy that reasonable liberty, which is alone consistent with society.

The moment liberty enters the discussion the pamphlet begins to set limits around it. As soon as it is mentioned, the author redefines it, not as liberty, but “reasonable liberty” which must be consistent with society. 

A few lines later we find that “the nature and prime end of society is the preservation and advantage of all its members equally, so far as the nature of things will permit.” Again, as soon as equality enters the discussion, it is fenced in and limited.

That the pamphlet’s author defines neither liberty nor equality before building fences around them and limiting their scope makes it difficult to see why it is that he sees the need for such fences, and makes me, as a reader, suspect that doesn’t actually value either as much as he claims.

Indeed, the pamphlet’s discussion of liberty and equality seems to be largely in service of cautions it wishes to issue about merchants and trade—contested topics on both sides of the American revolution. Deirdre McCloskey’s work has argued consistently and persuasively that the massive economic growth that began in the early 19th century results from changing ideas about commerce and “habits of the lip” in speaking about merchants and commercial society that began in the late 18th century rather than to sudden innovations in technology, politics, and elsewhere. This pamphlet, then, is written during those moments of cultural change. Evidence from the text suggests that, as with all change, the process is an uneasy one.

It is not surprising, then, to see the author’s assessment of liberty and equality all wrapped up in his confused anxiety over merchants.

While he assures us that, “Commerce in itself is not repugnant to morality” he notes in the same sentence that, while immorality is not of necessity attached to commerce, it is a frequent fellow traveller. “It exposes the practitioners to so many temptations, and attaches their minds so habitually to their own private interest, that there is the less delicacy to be expected from them in respect to the publick.” 

So far, this is fairly standard, and even fairly mild, anti-commercial rhetoric. Engaging in commerce isn’t instantly degrading, but it makes one vulnerable to becoming degraded, largely by encouraging excessive selfishness. And even this, the pamphlet notes, can be helpful. “Since riches are in some measure necessary for us, we must be content to take them with their inconveniencies of luxury and avarice.” It’s not the most market friendly rhetoric to the modern ear, but it acknowledges the contributions of commerce and makes it clear that—while not an ideal occupation compared to the lot of a landed aristocrat who serves in Parliament, it is not damnable. Commerce, like a sewage system, is a necessary component of a well-functioning nation. But you wouldn’t want it in your living room and would greatly prefer that your daughter not marry someone who works closely with it.

But when the author of Reflections brings his anxiety about commerce into conversation with the big political ideas of liberty and equality things begin to become more heated. He writes: 

The interests of merchants then, are often opposite to those of the publick; for these reasons merchants should be heard and supported in what is for the publick good, and considered as very useful subjects, whilst they act consistent with the publick advantage; but should have no weight as a body in what regards the constitution and dignity of the state.

Suddenly we have moved from merchants as useful members of society to merchants as a political threat. In their proper place—the marketplace—can be productive of necessary good things for a nation, though attended by dangerous vices like luxury and avarice. But the moment merchants are considered as participants in the political process the author draws a line. They should have “no weight” as a political block. 

Concerns about merchant collusion are no surprise. Even the most market friendly writers, like Adam Smith, were prone to warn that, “People of the same trade seldom meet together, even for merriment and diversion, but the conversation ends in a conspiracy against the public, or in some contrivance to raise prices.” (WON, Book 1, ch. x). But the insistence that this danger should be considered as disqualifying for participation in deciding the “constitution and dignity of the state” goes much further. And it is particularly pointed given that the American colonies were largely occupied by merchants and others with commercial interests. 

The author’s back-pedaling in a note strikes me as decidedly unpersuasive. He writes:

N.B. To prevent sinister interpretations of my meaning, I think it necessary to declare that when I mention the merchants, traders, colonists, &c. I mean the violent leaders and chief agents. In every party there are great numbers who know little of the matter, and only follow what the chiefs propose, and are consequently innocent of any ill design. I do not suppose merchants and traders in general to be indifferent to the good of their country, nor all colonists to be independants in government but in order to be understood, without circumlocution, I must make use of the common terms.

His “not all merchants” rhetoric merely indicates that he is willing for merchants to have political input so long as they agree with him. This is highly unlikely to have impressed the Americans. 

In the end, the author’s claim to value even moderated versions of liberty and equality is seriously brought into question by his desire to exclude those who use their liberty to engage freely in commercial occupations by denying their equality in the political process. Those fences and limits that were evident in the first paragraphs of the pamphlet were fair warning of what was to come.